


Cannoli

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Puns, F/M, Fluff, Food, Suggestive Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: Dean takes the reader out for lunch. She finds the dessert at best inspirational… at the worst, a pun.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 13





	Cannoli

Dean groaned and parked the Impala. 

Arching your eyebrow, you rolled your eyes. “Having an orgasm already? We’re not even in the building yet.” On the other side of the street was your destination: a pizza joint. It didn’t look very impressive, but Dean swore by it. “Why this place again?”

“Because it’s Death’s favorite pizza place. Or it was at least where I met him the first time.”

“Wait-” Dean was out of the car before you could protest. You rushed to catch up. “Death, like, Death Death?”

He grinned. “Yeah. That one.” He held open the door for you. “Chicago was spared because of this place.” 

The friendly waitress sat you in a booth and provided you with menus. Dean immediately handed them back. “Do you trust me?” his eyes asked. At your nod, he ordered the stuffed pizza. In the twenty minutes it took for lunch to arrive, the young woman kept you guys well attended with refills and pizza puns. Her giggle was infectious. 

Lunch came. And lunch left. Not that Sam would want any, but there was plenty left over to take home. 

“Any dessert today?”

“Oh-” Dean puffed out his food baby. “I don’t know-”

“What do you guys have?” You bounced in your seat. There’s a reason you only ate one of those giant slices. 

The waitress rattled off the choices. “We have tiramisu, made fresh this morning. It’s very good. Cheesecake. Cannolis-”

You squeaked. “Oh! I’ll take a cannoli.” With a groan, Dean agreed. 

“Great. Regular or chocolate?”

“Chocolate,” you both said. 

When it came out, you hesitated digging in until the waitress was gone. It was a beautiful thing. Sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon, the shell dipped in chocolate before being filled, it came with a spoon. A utensil you refused to use. Who eats a cannoli with anything other than your fingers? 

Two bites in, and a sinful moan later, a thought popped up uninvited. You struggled not to choke, which made you laugh more around the treat. 

“What?”

You shook your head. Though Dean was already half-through his dessert, he’d never make it through the rest if you spoke up now. You continued with your cannoli in small bites until he was done, give or take some escaped cream on his plate. 

“A long hard tube filled with cream,” you finally said, “what could go wrong?”

Dean choked on his drink. He sputtered more to watch your tongue dig out the cream from the shell. His saviour walked up a second later to take the plates. 

“Can I get you two anything else?”

“No. I shouldn’t have eaten that as it is.” He shot you a look. 

Misunderstanding the glare, the waitress glanced down at his empty plate. “Course not. But it’s not like she shoved it down your throat or anything. You seemed to enjoy it.” She took the plates and the money too fast to see Dean’s panic and your rising humour. 

He kicked you under the table. “Brat.”

“Jerk.” 


End file.
